BLACKer (BLACK Sequel)

BLACKer Chapter 1

Song: Never Forget You - Zara Larsson

Quote: "I will love you until the day I die. And even then I will be in your heart. Yours. And forever more."

*2 weeks later*

BLACKer Chapter 1
I have cried, and you would imagine that I would be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine for the rest of all eternity. "Are you in love Harry?" He pounders the questions. I do not hesitate a response. "No, out." I tell the therapist with the enthusiastic grin about his face.

"Suppose what do you mean son?" He questions my truth, tapping on the notepad pressed to his thigh. "The one I love should not love me for me." I say, staring at my hands. The love ring that Amelia had given me on my birthday had once embedded into my skin is now gone. The fringed writing of her words that was once written on the inside of the metal, somehow indented into my skin. I cross my fingertips at the surface of the texture. It is rough against my hard skin but gentle when it was to hers.

"And why do you think like this, so little of yourself? That you can not be loved?" He asks the heartfelt question and my heart shatters to the words he speaks of even more then they were in my hidden mind. "Because I am horrible in everything that I am." I rub my eye sockets, clearing of the fogged vision.

"Actually, there is a word for that. It is fear. I am in absolute and continuous fear with her. If you are looking for the word that means caring about someone beyond all rationality and wanting them to have everything they want no matter how much it destroys you, it is fear." I look up from my tired eyelids, seeing him holding back a valid response to my thoughts. He urges me to continue with a head nod.

"When you fear someone you just, you...you do not stop, ever. Even when people roll their eyes, and call you crazy. Even then. Especially then. You just– you do not give up. Because if I could give up...if I could just," I stop myself from speaking of the other half of me. It is too soon to know. It is not time to speak of him yet.

"If I had decided to foolishly take the whole world's advice and move on, to find someone else, that would not be love." I blink to my own voice. "That would be...that would be some other disposable thing that is not worth fighting for." I spit at the vile thought.

"Harry?" The man says my name in a hushed tone. I give him my undivided attention, awaiting for him to continue the conversation. "You should never fear another human being." He tells me strictly, his tone of voice heavy. "The only thing you have to fear is yourself."

"I already fear a lot more than myself. It is much, much deeper than just what I want anymore." I bite my lip, chewing at the surface of broken skin.

"That is why you are here. To tell me what is wrong, I am here for a reason. Please use it." He smiles, gesturing to the hour of time we have left in the stop watch. My head hurts from the lack of light in the room, it is too dark to think clearly. "May I turn on the lights? I do not like the darkness." I ask, aiming for the switch besides the doorframe.

"Of course, go ahead." He reasons and I relax to the newly adjusted atmosphere. "I have a question Harold." The man says after a moment of silence. I look to him with dilated eyes, the blood flowing rapidly to my heated skin. "Hopefully I have an answer. Please just call me Harry." I assure of him.

"Do you believe that there could be more than one person living inside of you?"

"Absolutely," I tell. "I have-"

He speaks above my voice, discarding of my words for his own. "I am not interested in what mental state you are in. Or what personality disorder you have been diagnosed with."

"Then what are you interested in?" I have to ask him, he seems rather well educated and his knowledge with the subject is unbelievably understanding.

"In making your unconscious, conscious."

My mouth slides open from the idle posture it has been in, my lips stay in contact with the air for several seconds before processing his horrid thinking. "No!" I stand to my feet, grabbing my coat from the chair besides the door and exit.

"Harry." The man follows me outside his office beginning of my entrance again. I shake him off, pressing the elevator end to this floor.

"Why won't you let me help you?" He asks, confusion laced into his sympathetic eyes. "I do not need your help." I inform him of his analysis and he sighs urging us back down the hallway. "You are very closed minded." He says and I roll my eyes, placing my coat back again on the chair and taking the seat opposite of himself.

"Sigmund Freud, believed once that his method alone could help one understand themselves, their relationships and perhaps maybe the world they live in." He speaks of the man himself. 1856-1939.

"I am perfectly fine." I answer to him, holding the unsettling craving inside of me to question him wrong.

"With all due respect, Harry. You are not. You are a mess. This treatment is based on the idea that we are frequently motivated to act by impulses that we do not often recognize. All because they originate in our unconscious." He explains what I already have known all along. Thank you, Izzy, I mentally praise her good knowledge.

"I do not feel at all comfortable with speaking to a stranger about my issues." I bite back his encouraged feelings. "The only way you will ever get better is understanding yourself. Inside and out." He clarifies roughly and scratches the side of his head impatiently to my purposely slow processing.

"So what do you expect me to do for the next 3 weeks hmm?" The sarcasm is evident in my tone of voice and I do not hold it over. "Come in here, lay down, and speak unconscious shīt out of my mouth, just so I can understand myself?"

"You will be quite surprised with what your mind is holding back from you, what it wants you to see and what it doesn't." He speaks up the courage to talk back to his patient in an angry tone. "You have nothing to loose. You are already as lost as you can be."

I have everything to loose. If I do this I will not be in control of what Harold might say, I will not be in competence of my thoughts and that scares me for the safety of others.

My horrible mind is telling me not to. It is eating me inside, pulling at my arm to exit this damn room but my feet are set to the ground in a permanent action. I hate how it wants me to die at this moment but I will not let it touch me, I am tired of being dragged down only to get hurt later. I do not want to die unless it is in her arms.

I breakdown the suspicion inside of my heart and respond to him in a final answer. "Ok," I breath, tilting my head forward into my hands.

I am brought back into perspective when his presence is no longer in sight, I look around the room but he is gone. I am alone like I have always been all of my life. What did I just agree to?

_